


Don't tell me a truth (I couldn't take it)

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 11:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17405708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: Since you don't get prompts all of the time, I thought it was high time that I'd sacrifice my creative intellect and send you one myself. So here it is. Swan Queen, btw. Emma accidentally locks herself in a truth chamber with Regina. They both have a secret they desperately want to hide from each other; after all the other can never find out how much the other loves them. They go about it in the most cringey ways of ways until there's only one thing left to say; the truth. Show me how ^.^ Asked by delirious-comfort via tumblr





	Don't tell me a truth (I couldn't take it)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, remember me raving about hubris? Is obvious that I haven’t learnt a thing about it. So, this is not short but I had far too much fun with it.

 

“So how this works? We can’t lie?”

Regina stared at Emma as the blonde looked at the contraption made out of copper and glass she had knocked over as they both rummaged through Gold’s shop. The device, no bigger than the woman’s fist and covered in intricate filigrees that seemed to be runes written on a mix of elvish and faeric, was emitting a small buzzing sound; not overtly noisy but enough for her to sigh at as the thread made out of lighting that had spurted out of it when Emma had let it fall covered the radius of the shop’s floor.

Standing at the farthest corner from the cone of truth, she bit down her bottom lip as she felt the telling sounds of the magic from the device, the compulsion of answering to the question eating at her. Only Emma, she thought as she pressed the pads of her fingers against her temple, would have needed so little time to lock them in a truth chamber. The look the other woman had given her moments prior when Regina had seen the flash cover them both had been more telling than anything else.

“Is not that easy.” She finally replied, letting her hands fall limp at her sides, the black blazer she wore stifling as she tugged at the edges of her sleeves. “The spell feeds on truths. We cannot escape until we tell everything we have lied about.”

Which was a roundabout way of saying that they both had a problem, a big one. One that not even her powers as the newly crowned queen of realms could even surpass. Apparently blind to the many layers the spell had, Emma shrugged as she knelt in front of the device, fingers hovering over the triangular shape of the object, the faint glow it emitted casting shadows and shapes on her cheekbones as she eyed it; light pooling around the awful ring she still wore on her finger, an object Regina felt her consciousness beginning to focus on, aided by the spell.

Emma’s voice rose once again, waking her up from her reverie.

“So… what? I tell you all my truths and then we are out?” The blonde chuckled a little, a vague reminiscence of the brazenness Regina had seen her display more than a few times once upon a time. The lack of a leather jacket, however, made the differences all more jarring. “It’s pretty flimsy.”

Taking a few strides to the center of the chamber, Regina eyed the still kneeling woman. She usually forgot that Emma didn’t know the basics of a world that had been hers for the first years of her own life. As much as she wanted to be angry at her clumsiness the anger fiddled away as she admitted inwardly that the blonde couldn’t have known what she would unleash by dropping the device. Not like she should be picking any unknown objects inside Gold’s shop, of course, that gave her enough agency to, at least, be slightly irritated. Anger, she considered while sucking on her teeth, was far better than the impending sense of dread that was beginning to grow on her chest.

“The spell was created so no spies could infiltrate the castles of the royal family.” She finally supplied, unable to stop herself as the spell compelled her to speak. And even though she hadn’t seen the cone before she had heard enough of it, enough of the powers it hold in the manner of a simple hex kept intact by the aid of the copper bands around the glass. It was intricate, and beautiful on its own way, the thought assaulting that side of her who had always felt incredibly interested by magic on itself, the one Gold had fed back when she had been his apprentice. Licking her lips, barely looking at Emma, she spoke once again, softer this time. “But it was a little too… much. I can only wonder why Gold had one of this lying around.”

The last bit was murmured; the power of the device was obviously quite amazing; the fact the man had one was already sketchy enough. Sadly, they couldn’t ask him how or why he had it, how it had fallen onto his hands. She guessed she probably didn’t want to find the story behind it; no matter the ramifications it hold. Which made the trip Emma had managed to make her take after the blonde had knocked on her door, looking restless and nervous on her first day of the job after her maternity leave, all more pressing.

The blonde, unaware of Regina’s musings, rose and pressed the palms of her hands against her jeans, a series of magic sparks following her movements as she did so. Magic, Regina knew, that would be totally useless against the powers keeping them both tied to the chambers borders. A detail Emma was obviously ignorant of as she directed the flurry of sparks towards the buzzing device.

Sighing and approaching the blonde, Regina rose her right hand, carefully placing it atop the woman’s hands, not really touching but close enough for her magic to react to Emma’s, purple swirls breaking through her skin as she eyed the blonde’s green eyes, the sudden proximity making the ball of fear tighten on her chest.

 “It doesn’t work like that.” She said, infusing enough sternness on her tone that Emma frowned, letting her hands fall. Rolling her eyes and taking a few steps away so she could spin and point at the borders of the cone, Regina snapped her fingers, sending a wave of demonstrative magic towards the barrier, letting them fiddle out just like she had known they would. “Once the chamber has been called it won’t disappear until we don’t have anything else to say.”

The blonde eyed the device in front of her and, for a second, she seemed a moment away of trying to kick it. Which made the brunette roll her eyes at the obvious twitching on Emma’s calf. Growling, the younger woman sat down again, hands fiddling on her lap.

 “Ok, so let’s do it.”

Blinking at the sudden change, Regina parted her lips, unsure of what she had heard. She had expected that Emma would try another thing before ascribing to the fact that they were trapped. Maybe even try to call to her parents, to Hook. That, apparently, wasn’t the case and when the silence stretched the blonde merely pointed around them, at both the dusty walls and themselves, still in the middle of the cone. Apparently unperturbed.

 “Yes, let’s start telling… I don’t know.” She ran a hand through her blonde tresses, glancing at the borders. “I’m wearing mismatched socks. How about that?”

The truth did seem to be heard by the cone, the device glowing ever so slightly at the words, the truth ludicrous enough that Regina groaned inwardly, not doubting for a second the tidbit was true.

“Is that what you are able to come up with?” Her voice was harsher than intended and Emma looked at her with a mix of surprise and wonder she always got near magical devices. She should have known, the brunette thought; Emma had been unable to keep her hands to herself when they had first tried to start with the magical classes, touching almost anything she could on her vault. She should have at least call Henry before going to Gold, tell him where they were planning to go. Unfortunately, she hadn’t; surprised by the fact Emma that had sought her company. A rarity that still hurt deep whenever she thought about it.

Pressing her lips until they formed a fine line, Emma pointed at her, voice rising as she spoke, sparks of white tinting her pupils.

“Well, at least I’m trying! You are the one there, brooding.”

“Because I don’t want to be here.”

The words came from her mouth before she was even able to edit them, her tone rising as well, their situation nagging the back of her mind; the possibility of her saying something, telling something she didn’t want to tell prickling her insides.

She hadn’t left Storybrooke for this, she thought momentarily, hadn’t left everything behind only to come back and be subjected to this; a possibility she had never considered before.

Standing again, stomping almost towards her, Emma herself looked angrily at her, eyes flaring with unspent energy, the shadow in them growing darker as did the hue of her magic on the back of her pupils.

“I don’t either!” She replied, and Regina remembered once again that despite the tentative tries they both had done it still had been a long time since they had truly worked together as a team.  “That’s what I’m trying to do something about it.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, calling for her magic, asking, pleading with it so it didn’t rile up in the same way Emma’s was doing, she focused intently on the other woman’s eyes, on the stupidity of their situation. One that, if it wasn’t because of the growing pressure on her chest, her throat, she would be laughing hysterically about. Leave them to end up trapped without a baddie in town. They certainly had lost their touch.

Rising one shoulder, half-shrugging before walking towards the middle of the cone, it was she the one who now bent her knees, the high heels of her boots scrapping the floor as she fought to keep her balance, unwilling to fall in front of Emma who, crossing her arms tightly against her chest, eyed her, anger slowly transforming into tiredness judging by the lines around her mouth.

A tiredness that also overcame her as she eyed the cone, the bands and barrier still up in the air.

“The only thing that we can do is to… don’t have any lies to tell, Emma.” She found herself saying, softly.  And the thought terrified her. Much more than she was willing to admit. She could feel the hex festering on her, pulling every lie, every half-truth she had tried to suppress. If this, she briefly considered, had happened a few years ago the memories of her past self would have worked, would have been enough. Sadly, currently those dark deeds had already been aired more times than she was able to count: they didn’t work and so she could feel the pressure rising, drumming on her temples.

She would have never thought that she would confess to the blonde while being trapped inside Gold’s shop. The imp would have loved this.

“Well, then say something!”

Emma’s words brought her back to the present; to the device and the way she needed to either sit or stand, her knees beginning to protest at the strain the posture brought with it. Choosing the latest, she brushed her fingers against the bunched fabric of her slacks, ironing any possible wrinkles there before nibbling on her bottom lip, considering momentarily what kind of truth the device would consider important enough to, at least, weaken its hold. It was a wonder, truly, how Emma seemed bothered but not fazed by their predicament.

Or, a voice on the back of her head whispered, slightly darker, reminiscent of her Queen days, she was merely projecting, wanting Emma to feel the same as she did, for the same reason she had. A thought so ludicrous she snorted, humming when Emma eyed her curiously, brows furrowed and dirty white still coloring her eyes.

A truth came to her lips, one that wasn’t entirely a secret but one she felt the device could work with. Unless until she bought time, until she knew how to escape the cone.

 “I don’t like the title your mother gave me; is too much.”

A snicker reached her, Emma’s lopsided smile welcoming her when she looked at her, surprised. The look was full of fondness, devoid of the slight awkwardness that had filled their previous interactions after the coronation and Regina almost smiled back before settling for a rise of her own brows, waiting for the woman to elaborate.

Which the blonde did after sighing, taking a step closer to her, some tension leaving her shoulders as she replied; a quiet admission on her eyes.

 “I was always partial to Madam Mayor either way.”

The almost airily way in which she spoke made Regina smile despite the tension on her shoulders, the pounding on her ears.

“You are only saying that because you like the ring to it.” It came out of her before she could redirect her thoughts, the wording holding a far too flirty undertone. One she bit down her tongue because of it.

Back in the day, this had been easy; fueled by either anger or the need to protect each other. When Regina had left Storybrooke, however, she had also felt a strange loss deeply lodged on her chest; the pull she had learnt to implicitly tie to Emma severed. That line had been restored when she had merged the realms, magic cursing through her, healing and covering every part of her in a wave made out of electric impulses. Yet, it felt strange to be there, standing there, in the middle of a place both had returned again and again for the largest part of the relationship they had created for them both.

Emma didn’t quite answer to her response, her eyes down to the device, a light blush forming on her neck, the neck of the jumper she wore not high enough to hide that fact. The unnatural glow of the cone gave her skin a paler complexion than usual, the glimmer of unspent magic breaking through her hair, thousands of specs coloring the blonde curls with white undertones. She looked different, Regina found herself thinking. A mix, perhaps, of the woman that had hurt her far too much to look at with the one she had known once. And that thought alone made the truth called forth by the spell to pound even harder.

She remained silent, however, battling against the compulsion until she heard something close to a heavy breath being dragged; Emma’s eyes dark when she stared at her, the different knickknacks that covered Gold’s pawnshop framing her movements as she changed the weight from one foot to the other, fingers playing again with the awful ring, the silver clashing against Emma’s complexion, the details far too heavy on her knuckle as she slid it up and down.

“I don’t know if I am being a good mother to Hope.” The admission was quiet, the pitch brittle as if Emma had the same problems Regina had, the compulsion far too much for her. Eyes still dark, unreadable, Emma stared at the boundaries around them just as much Regina stole a glance to them, the glow changing slightly but never disappearing. Not quite. One hand reaching for the swan pendant around her neck, the old bauble glimmering under the light, Emma kept on talking, never once leaving the boundaries glow as she did so. “I want to, but… the first few months, when you weren’t here… I thought on the memories you gave me, with Henry, nonstop.”

Nausea running over her, Regina thought on the memories, on those she still had been able to remember. The truth didn’t quite surprise her. Not as it could have at least. But the realization of how Emma looked absolutely devastated made her sway on the spot, the idea of walking closer, moving closer, something that kept echoing on the back of her brain. From a part that was the one who always moved closer, itching, hoping, that Emma would not move away.

“You are a good mother to her.”

There were many other things she desired to admit but she didn’t speak them outload. Not knowing, not wishing really, to see how far she would be able to push a line the cone was already tugging at, unrepentantly.

“Thank you.”

The both fell silent once more, Regina trying to battle against the words she had tried to suppress for so long, the magic pushing her as she grew restless. They had been trapped for a few minutes now, the light from outside the shop still the same murky gray that spoke of a lazy morning in Storybrooke but the cars and the people walking idly didn’t cross the enchanted walls of the place, the dimly lit place only a reminder that, apparently, no one was looking for them. Yet.

“How long until someone realizes we are missing?” Emma seemed to be thinking in the same lines as she had and when she zeroed on the phone the blonde had extracted from her back pocket she refrained to do the same, knowing already that a call would be out of the question.

“How long does Hook need to see that you are not glued to him?”

She didn’t close her eyes, but she growled, outwardly this time, at the inability to keep the obvious venom dripping from her lips. She had gotten better at this, at pretending total indifference to the doppelganger of the man that had transformed into her friend back when she had merely been Roni. The anger she placed on the pirate, however, hadn’t diminished. Not when she was still subjected to the presence of him now that she was back.

Turning briskly, Emma rose her brows, obvious surprise on her face as she pocketed the phone once again, the not signal symbol flashing before Regina’s eyes before the woman’s voice made her look up once again to those green eyes, closer than before.

“Really? You are going to use this to tell me again how you don’t like Hook?” Snorting, the younger woman pointed at the cone, almost as if she was talking to it rather than her. “Because I already knew that.”

Feeling defensive, Regina shrugged, calling for calmness once more as her magic riled up once again, the throbbing on her temples only intensifying as she did so. She could try to change the subject, but she knew it would be fruitless; the hex had already latched on her thoughts about the pirate, about Emma’s own words and when she spoke she did it quickly, trying to do so in the quickest way possible.

It wasn’t, as Emma said, like her feelings regarding him were a secret. She tolerated him at best.

“Well, I’m not lying. You seem unable to move without him saying something about it.”

Silence hung between them once more, the barrier glowing once more, signaling that it had fed from both of their statements. Sighing loudly, Regina approached the wooden counter, just near the edge of the barrier, before sliding down, back against the wood. She was fed up with this; with her never truly having the opportunity to choose for herself. Ever so slowly, still silent, Emma walked next to her, dropping at her side in a less ceremonious way; jaw trembling, teeth gritted.

For a moment Regina wondered if this was going to be it; the admission far too much for Emma to even try to keep the modicum of friendship she had started to give her ever since she had returned to the town; a younger version of Henry in tow.

However, after drumming her thumbs against her knees, sitting cross-legged, the blonde restlessly rolled her shoulders, the movement making the tresses that fall limp at both sides of her head move slightly, capturing the gleaming barrier with them. Lips pale, the blonde glanced at the device, her magic traveling up and down her neck now, crackling on her cheeks as she swallowed thickly a couple of times before parting her lips once more; her voice a trickle, defeated.

“I have thought on divorcing him.”

Regina could feel her own muscles going slack at the admission, something close to trepidation making her fingers tremble as she pressed her hands on the shop’s floor, magic itching as it began to burn through her veins, the hex pinching, prodding. She managed to swallow the words, but her voice still trembled far too much when she rose it again, the words ricocheting against the walls.

 “Don’t make me say what I think about that.” It sounded far more pained than Regina would have wanted it to sound but she felt that she didn’t have it in here anymore. She would have never considered that Emma, the Emma the woman had transformed into, would ever think on something she had been dreaming about ever since she had sat there, on the first row, heart sinking as Emma glanced at the dark-haired man as if he was the only thing that could make her happy.

Chuckling mirthlessly, Emma put both of her hands up, palms facing upwards, as she motioned towards Regina. She, too, seemed pained.

“I would like to.” And it was soft, far too soft and Regina sighed, rising her head until the back hit the wooden surface enough for her to jump back to a standing position, unable to keep still anymore. Not when she felt her insides hurting and Emma felt far too close to her, closer than they had been for a really long time.

When she opened her mouth again she knew beforehand what would come out of it, but she did nothing to stop it this time, feeling perhaps emboldened by Emma’s invitation. Emma who, still seated down herself, crane her neck so she could keep looking at her as Regina paced, purple coloring the air around her.

“You are too good for him.”

“You were too good for Robin.”

The retort didn’t burn but Regina bristled at it; at the air of authority Emma suddenly had as the blonde finally followed her, standing back up, arms awakrdly akimbo, thumbs hooking on the belt loops of her jeans. An authority that she hadn’t even dare to wield even after Hook’s multiple deeds.

“My soulmate, the one that died because of our trip to the Underworld?” She flinched as the words left her mouth. She had made peace with what happened, even after she had been able to see the wish realm version of the man; forever different than the one who had died against Hades. She did not longer seek him, knowing that the story they could have had was and had been buried at last. And still, the fact that Emma seemed so capable of throwing that idea around when she herself felt her very skin burn with the reality of the pirate on Emma’s life blinded her for a hot moment. One second in where Emma glanced down before walking back to the furthest end of the barrier, the buzzing sound it followed a warning form the device that she would not go further than the uncomfortable stance in which she stopped, right foot mid-air.

“Zelena told me that you had blamed her for that.” Licking her lips, the woman focused on Regina once more, voice less brisk, mellower for a moment. “Do you realize that it was my fault, right?”

Wanting to snort, Regina laughed instead, the sound flat and fragile as she crossed her arms once more, fingers digging into her forearms as she did so. She did not want to answer to that and yet her mouth opened once again, words coming out of her before she was able to do anything about it.

“I could never blame you. It was my decision to go.”

Emma eyed at her wearily and Regina felt a wave of dizziness overcoming her.

“Then why blame her?”

“Because it was easier… to keep being angry about that. Even if…”

She stopped, silence weighing down on both of them once more. She truly didn’t have anything else to say, or at least not a coherent thought. Which, thankfully, the hex seemed to pick up on and stopped its nagging on the matter. Not like the harm wasn’t already done. She had accepted what had happened years ago and yet, as Emma stared at her, her mind went back no to the Underworld, not to the horrible, squelching feeling that had filled her when she had needed to divide Emma’s heart for a hot second, the feeling of it pumping on her hand one that had given her nightmares alongside with the irrational fear of waking one day only to discover Emma was gone, left. No, the memory her mind latched on was on slightly before their trip, high cheekbones, dramatic flair and far too much leather filling her mind.

An image that, despite everything, made her smile.

 “I always thought that you overdid the whole Dark One regalia.”

Emma’s own tension disappeared as she laughed slightly, chuckling almost as she, too, seemed lost on the memory of white-haired hair and far too much dramatics.

 “Says the woman who seemed to love using a plunging neckline while being the Queen.” And then there it was the flirty tone again, resurfacing from Emma’s voice instead of hers. A detail Regina did very little to smile at as the next few words erupted from her mouth, not really bothering to stop them this time while she lowered the tone, huskier now.

“You are saying that because of something, dear?”

She had expected a stutter; Emma’s usual response of taking a step back whenever they played too close with whatever precipice they seemed to always be walking around almost kicking in in the way she swallowed thickly. However, when the woman answered, she did so in a similar tone than Regina had had, less smirk on her lips perhaps, but eyes intense enough for Regina to taste Emma’s magic in the air, specs of white rising between them both, feeding the contraption.

“Well, you looked amazing in those dresses.”

The silence that fell upon them felt less tense now, but it still made Regina pressed her fingers against her lips, her mind still reeling as her memory went back to the times Emma had truly seen her in full Evil Queen regalia, the thought bringing different memories than the usual shame and worry. Which was what made her blink owlishly as the blonde spoke once more, her voice somber now, one hand hovering over the swan pendant once again, not quiet touching it.

“I am sorry.”

Staring at her, Regina frowned, unsure of what was the blonde referring to. Pointing around them, the woman licked her lips slowly, trying probably -and failing- to keep the words from falling from her lips.

“I’m sorry for not having followed you guys when I could.” The woman looked surprised almost, but she shook her head and kept on talking, staring down at the device as she did so, the buzzing on it changing ever so slightly, a band whirring as it locked itself into place.  Eyes dark, Regina followed the band as it moved, startled when the blonde spoke again, an undertone of almost wonder filling every vowel. “Maybe that’s why I’m thinking on filling the papers now. Everything was just too much, seeing you with Henry and then… I couldn’t. But I’m sorry. I would have go with you.”

And yes, Regina, despite everything, had felt the pang of seeing Emma go, cross back to a town that didn’t feel like home. Not anymore. She couldn’t say that, however, not when she knew that admitting it so would end up with a much more complicated conversation. One she didn’t want to have. Instead, she focused on Emma’s face, walking closer to her, almost touching her, as she breathed what she had still told herself that day, when the vortex had closed behind Emma and Hook, their shadows an imprint on the back of her eyelids that had burnt for far longer than it should have as she could only have been able to think on the almost teary smile Emma had directed at her, a longing curling itself between her lungs.

“You had other things to take care of.”

And it was a truth, but she still felt the magic pressing her sides, pushing her to keep on speaking, to keep on admitting. Thankfully, Emma cut her short, effectively pushing the pressure out of her, the magic focusing on her now.

“Yes, but I missed you, both of you.”

They smiled at each other, unsure. They didn’t have anything else to say about that, about the fact that Regina had waited for far too long wishing to open her eyes one day and find Emma crossing back again. About the fact that Emma had just admitted that she had thought of her during her pregnancy, memories that weren’t hers but had been gifted to her a constant reminder on her mind. Which was probably the reason why that, when Emma spoke again, earnest, down to business once again, Regina found herself startled, realizing for the first time that she was standing far too close for her own liking, their magic mingling, coloring the air not in one single white or purple but a different hue. One that she didn’t even dare to focus on for far too much.

“How many secrets can we still be keeping from each other now?”

And it was probably the surprise, the way she felt her body tired, her muscles aching, but she didn’t even battle the hex this time, words tumbling out of her mouth, unbidden.

“I can think of a few more.”

Emma blinked at that, waiting for her to elaborate but Regina bit down on her tongue, taking a step back only to be stopped by Emma grasping her forearm, keeping her in place. Eyes pleading and far too understanding for Regina’s liking.

“Well, let’s hear them.”

And this time it was her who run away, shaking her head while she did so; not moving away but closing the possibility as she swallowed down with every strength she possessed the compelling magic that pinched her, prodded at her, waiting for her to speak, to admit something she didn’t want to. Not when she had just reclaimed her space in Storybrooke, not now, when Emma had told her that she was thinking about a divorce.

“I would prefer not to.”

Another silence, another pause and Regina began to wonder if Emma’s previous idea of kicking the device out of their lives was actually not a bad idea. Not when she felt her strength depleting rapidly, the contraption obviously not happy with her deflection.

“I also have one I don’t want to say.”

Words blurted and unnaturally loud, Emma seemed just as speechless as Regina felt and, surprised, she could only answer in the same tone, unsure.

 “You do?”

Nervous laughter echoing through the shop, Emma let Regina go, her grasp slipping as she run her fingers through her hair, strong enough that Regina winced slightly at the obvious tug on a few locks. Tongue peeking between her teeth, Emma paced, moving away as Regina took an unconscious step forward, magic drumming on her veins.

 “I don’t know which one is worse. The fact that I had… that I dreamt about you, or that…”

“I also dreamt about you.”

Regina didn’t quite hear the gasp, but she felt it nonetheless on the way her cheeks flushed at the admission, at the stupid way her mouth betrayed her; the hex taking hold on her, making her feel like a stupid girl, the same kind of girl that she had been one. Naïve, far too naïve.

And yet…

“You realize I’m not talking about simple dreams, do you?”

She refrained herself from rolling her eyes. Yes, she had understood the tone, the fact that Emma even had those about her making her stammer, the beast of a truth she had tried to bury deep within her roaring back to live as she wondered how many, for how long.

Emboldened by it, she pressed on, taking Emma’s space again, cornering the woman almost against the counter, the buzzing of the barrier forgotten as she stared at Emma’s eyes, exhilaration running down her back as she saw some of the old fire back there; a need to prove herself framing Emma’s features, giving them a shade of gold and white Regina hadn’t even realized she had missed.

“What made you think I didn’t meant the same for me as well?”

She felt her heart drumming against her ribcage, the thousands of times she had imagined, hoped, for Emma to tell her something, say something instead than the mere pregnant pauses, the ones she always walked away with the thought of a thousand what-if’s clamoring inside her head, coming back to her, one by one.

 “I had the first the first time I came here, the second night.”

Regina could remember that night, the absolute fury she had felt, the need to scalp Emma, the need to make her go away despite the pull she had felt when she had stood in the middle of her foyer, a far too flirtatious smile on her face, a kind of strut on her walk she knew she only used when she intended to use desire against those stupid enough to think she was weaker than she truly was.

But Emma had never underestimated her, she had always seen her for her, for herself, for the woman she was, not for what stories and rumors said and, as such, she could picture herself that night, and the one after that one, and the one that had come after that: curling into bed, sleep keeping her awake as she dreamt of multiple possibilities. A few making her tremble as she watched as the clock tick by hours in a town that hadn’t known time before.

And, a few others, making her want to see how far she would be able to push the newcomer’s buttons.

 “Why didn’t you…” But she didn’t finish the question, afraid suddenly that her voice reflected the sudden need to know, the want that she had been so good at pretending it wasn’t there for the longest of times. The hex battled against it, of course, pushing, biting her, but she was yet again saved by Emma’s own compulsion forcing words out of her in a similar fashion.

“We hated each other.”

“But we don’t anymore.”

And she felt pathetic once again; pleading for a truth that didn’t even matter anymore. Not after everything that had happened. A few dreams regarding her and the blonde didn’t hold its weight now, not after everything that had transpired. No matter how she still had them, all of them leaving her far too bothered to even try to do something but to finish what they started every single night she ended up thinking about the blonde.

Blonde who, laughing bitterly, ducked away, placing her hands on the counter, eyes open and exposed.

“Telling you that I’ve had dreams about you I haven’t even had with Hook is not exactly an easy conversation, Regina.”

And it wasn’t. But Regina would have never thought there would be one to begin with. Which was what made her jump as the blonde spoke again, eyelids low, giving her look an almost dreamy one as she spoke, voice quiet, pensive.

 “I would have said no, to Hook. In the wedding. I wanted to say no, I wanted to turn and run to you.”

“Emma…” And Regina wanted to stop her there, tell her that she had already admitted enough. Far more than Regina herself had said but the blonde, like she always did, stubbornly, stupidly, shook her head, knowing her far too well.

“No, let me. I broke the seal. It’s only fair that I’m the one who says this.” A teary smile forming on her lips, she kept on talking, softly, a small moment of doubt coloring her voice before she spoke once again, her next admission spoken with such softness, with such fragility, that Regina wondered for a brief second if the blonde wasn’t hoping that they could feign it had never happened. “I wanted to say no to him and then say it to you.”

Regina felt the floor open behind her feet as there was no mistake on Emma’s words, the buildup on her own chest eliciting a gasp as Emma chuckled, sadly, bitterly almost before she hugged herself, bony shoulders protruding as she tried to move away, the ghost of a blush beginning to dust her cheeks with red and pink. Lightheaded as she felt, Regina could only watch with one hand on the counter, steadying her, as she felt the hex screaming at her, asking her, claiming for a truth she had spent far too much time denying only for the woman in front of her to beat her at it. Like she always did, she thought with fondness tinting her thought.

Still unable to speak, she saw how Emma swallowed, tears building on her eyes, making her look younger in a way, softer around edges that Regina had never wanted to see disappear. “But I didn’t. And I regret it. Every day ever since.” Chocking out a sob, raw magic dancing on her eyes, on her hair, on her skin, the woman didn’t move when Regina rose her other hand, hovering over her cheek, unsure, afraid. “I should have… I should have tried to say something, but I didn’t want to lose what we already had, I didn’t want to disappoint everyone. My parents, Henry…”

The hold of the hex was still there but Regina couldn’t care less about it as she stared at Emma’s eyes, at the way the blonde kept waiting for a response, one that she felt trapped between her teeth as she gritted them before she let her muscles relax, the dizziness she had felt coiling on her stomach; hope thrumming through her veins.

 “I’m in love with you, you idiot. I would have loved…” It came out quicker than intended, imperfect and fast but Emma still gasped as the chamber whirred and fell, the light disappearing and a wave of power cracking a few glasses and mirrors around them. Not like Regina cared about it anymore. Not like she felt able to move either, as Emma was the one this time who stepped closer, her chest touching hers as she slide her hand back towards Regina’s, pressing the palm against her back, magic crackling in the air.

 “Say it again.”

And there was a hint of cockiness, the kind Regina had missed. Drunk on the realization she wasn’t dreaming, she nodded, whispering it again, less brisk, closer to what she guessed an admission would sound like. One that had been in the making for a decade now.

“I love you.”

Emma laughed, childlike, free as the sound of a ring against the floor between them momentarily blinded them both.

“Again.”

“I…”

But she never managed to finish the word, a kiss promptly stopping her, the resulting wave of magic enveloping them both, leaving nothing else behind but them. Only them.


End file.
